


understood

by vampiresuffrage



Series: unspoken and not [2]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: ALL THE GOOD STUFF, First Kiss, Happy Ending, M/M, dennis has an eating disorder, dennis has an unhealthy relationship with sex, i promise this isnt as much of a bummer as it sounds like, non explicit sexual content and lots of sexual references because. its them, some canon compliant unhealthy macden dynamic, thats just how iasip is, we've got sweet shit and some jokes to balance it out though!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampiresuffrage/pseuds/vampiresuffrage
Summary: It was easy to keep up the unspoken thing he and Mac had at first. Simple. Of course, nothing ever stayed simple, and Dennis had to decide whether to stick around and make an effort, or run and keep things they way they used to be. He was getting too tired to run anymore.
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Series: unspoken and not [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559695
Comments: 21
Kudos: 196





	understood

**Author's Note:**

> this is part 2 of this series! click the link go the series for part 1 (you might not Need it, but some of the shit in the first parts of this will be confusing without it)

After that morning, things got easier between the two of them. Their shoulders touched on the couch and Mac hooked his ankle around Dennis' at the table and sometimes when they were drunk enough they slept side by side in Dennis' bed and woke up tangled together. Sometimes Dennis caught himself staring at Mac for too long when Mac was focused on something, and the times Mac noticed he just smiled at Dennis. Mac didn't ask questions. He didn't push.

Dennis didn't make the mistake of dishing out any compliments that would strip him of plausible deniability again. It would fuck everything up, and this was the first time in years that Dennis didn't feel like he needed to adjust every fiber of his being to perfection when someone looked at him with intent. Dennis wasn't ready to fuck that up.

If Dennis had to pick the worst part of the _unspoken_ aspect of this thing with Mac, the thing that made his blood feel like it wasn't moving the right way through his veins and his skin feel too tight, it was that Mac hadn't deleted Grindr. Once or twice a week, Mac disappeared for a few hours to go bang some gym rat, some guy who was young and strong and hot and confident. Some guy who looked nothing like Dennis. 

It stung. Obviously Mac and Dennis weren't dating, and they weren't fucking. Mac...had no reason not to go out and meet his needs. Dennis sure as shit wasn't doing it. 

But Dennis _hadn't_ gone out and found someone young and sexy and willing to pretend Dennis was too in well over a month. He didn't even really _want_ to most days. He only really thought about it when Mac was texting some twenty-five year old he was planning to bang. His chest got heavy, and he made plans to go find someone to fuck nice and loud while Mac was home. He never followed through though. He just got drunk and skipped as many meals as he could get away with. If he was just a little skinnier, a little better looking, Mac would forget about all the young, available guys on his phone.

And then Mac came back home with a throat covered in hickeys, looking happy and relaxed. Dennis' mind went grey and sharp and he went to his room before Mac could say a word. Once he'd calmed down enough that he could at least see again, he touched up his makeup, straightened his clothes, and grabbed his keys. If Mac was going to take all the attention Dennis gave him and then go fuck other people anyways, Dennis could do the same. Mac could not have the upper hand. Dennis wouldn't allow it. 

He left the apartment without a word, ignoring Mac's questions. He left his phone on the couch. 

He went to a club. He'd been too exhausted to D.E.N.N.I.S. anyone since North Dakota. He was looking for someone who was looking for no strings. Dennis couldn't do strings. 

A man at the bar bought him a drink, and Dennis allowed the man to watch him. He wouldn't work for this though. Dennis didn't bring men back to the apartment. He didn't want the camera to see the way he gave up control of the situation underneath a man in a way he never would for a woman, and he did not need to run the risk of one of his idiot friends barging into his apartment and finding out shit about him that was none of their business.

So he found a woman--probably around thirty, older than he usually went for but she would do--that batted her eyelashes at him, and he danced with her until she asked if he wanted to take her home. 

He didn’t. He smiled and said yes anyways. 

Mac was sitting on the couch when Dennis and the woman (he’d forgotten her name as soon as she told him, but it wasn’t like it mattered anyways) walked in. Dennis smiled at him to say _see? I can do it too,_ and led the woman to his bedroom. 

He didn’t feel sexy or powerful. Mostly he just felt hungry. It had been two days since the last time Mac asked him to eat, and so all he’d had in that time was an orange in the middle of the night when his stomach was keeping him awake. While they were fucking, he wondered if Mac would cook for him that night. Afterwards, he wondered if Mac had left. 

He pulled a fifty out of his wallet. “Cab fare,” he said plainly. She looked put-out that he didn’t invite her to stay the night, but she didn’t say he should call her, and she didn’t complain since he’d given her enough money for a ride home _and_ dinner, so Dennis chalked it up as a win. 

He laid in bed for probably an hour before he moved. He didn’t feel sated or content or...anything. He was just tired. 

Mac didn’t cook dinner. He didn’t ask Dennis if he wanted takeout. He didn’t hook his ankle around Dennis’ the next morning when they drank coffee. 

He didn’t have a Grindr date that week either. Dennis’ stomach felt hollow from more than just the lack of food, but Mac didn’t sleep with anyone that week. The scales were still tipped, just barely, in Dennis’ favor. He still had control. 

Only it didn’t feel that way when Predator Tuesday came around and Mac didn’t put his arm over the back of the couch so Dennis could lean into his side, or when he didn't ask for a ride to the gym, or when Dennis was awake at 3 in the morning and he dropped a coffee mug because his hands were shaking and Mac didn’t come help him clean up even though he definitely heard Dennis scream at the ruined shards of glass scattered across the kitchen. 

Still. Mac wasn’t fucking other people. 

A week later, he cooked Dennis dinner. It was the first full meal Dennis ate in that time. He still didn’t hook his ankle around Dennis’, but he sat close enough to Dennis on the couch that night for their knees to touch. It was something. 

Another three weeks, and things were back to the comfortable normalcy of before. Casual touches were back on the table, and Mac smiled at Dennis across the kitchen table every time he agreed to have some fruit for breakfast. Dennis still didn’t let himself feel secure again until the day he went through Mac’s phone while Mac was in the bathroom. 

He’d deleted Grindr. Dennis’ chest felt warm in a way he had no idea what to do with. He set the phone down and tried to catch his breath, tried to figure out how to deal with the fact his heart was stuttering like some goddamn middle schooler getting their first crush. 

“Uh, hey Dennis? Remember how I hid the plunger in the hall closet? I’m gonna need you to get that for me, this toilet is all kinds of backed up."

And the disgust that rose in Dennis’ throat was more than enough to shove down that warm feeling. He could deal with it like he did all his other feelings: in the middle of the night when he was stressed and alone and his idiot best friend couldn’t yell about the shit he just took. 

Of course, the night _did_ come that Dennis was awake and alone and stressed, and he did his very best to _not_ think about the way his chest felt when Mac did things for him. He especially tried not to think about the fact that, lately, all Mac had to do was smile to bring that feeling back. He failed. Of course. He didn’t have quite the same level of restraint over his thoughts when there was nobody around he needed to keep up appearances for. 

He sat still as a statue in the center of his bed, he paced around the room, he laid down and tossed and turned, and he tried to find any explanation besides the one that kept popping up again and again. Around the same time the sun rose, he realized the reason he couldn’t think of another explanation was because there wasn’t one. 

Somehow Dennis Reynolds, the brains of Paddy’s Pub, the most attractive member of the Reynolds family, the inventor of a guaranteed system of seduction, a _Golden God_ (even if he didn’t feel like one most days anymore), was in _love_ with Ronald goddamn McDonald, a Catholic idiot with no fashion sense or skincare routine who was named after a disgusting hamburger clown. It was ridiculous. Dennis could have fallen in love with anyone. Someone richer, someone more successful, someone who was anything Dennis would’ve considered even the bare minimum to be considered for a relationship. 

But no. He was in love with a man who didn’t believe in science and sold him shitty weed under the bleachers in high school. It was pathetic, really. But it was the situation Dennis found himself in. Somehow, he didn’t feel like running away. 

He stayed in bed, he came to terms with his situation, he did not sleep. Once the sun was up high enough to peek into his room through the crack between his curtains, he got up. If he was in love with Mac, he might as well make him coffee when he was the first one up. He didn’t bother waking Mac up, he knew the smell would do it. For someone who hated getting up early, Mac was an absurdly light sleeper. 

Sure enough, just as the coffee had finished brewing and Dennis was pouring it into their mugs, Mac came out of his bedroom bleary-eyed, his hair a wreck and his shirt bunched up around his waist. Dennis ignored the way his fingers itched to reach out and readjust all of it, to smooth out his shirt and run his hands through Mac’s hair until it looked orderly again. Just because he was in love with Mac, it didn’t mean he was going to start handing out gentle touches and affection like it was nothing. It was too much too fast, and Dennis wasn’t there. Not when it was too early to be awake and Mac was smiling at him with his eyes still half-closed with sleep and Dennis hadn’t finished from reeling from the fact that he was even capable of being in love with someone. 

It was too early for it to be real. Dennis needed it to be real. 

So he handed Mac his coffee without a word. They sat at the table, and Mac hooked his ankle around Dennis’. It was part of their routine now. It made Dennis feel warm. His God hole felt less cavernous now. The edges didn’t feel so sharp. It would never be full, but at least he could tell it had a bottom. 

Mac needed to know that much, at least. Dennis reached across the table and grabbed Mac’s free hand. Mac’s eyes got wide, and Dennis saw his grip on his mug slacken for just a second. Dennis never initiated physical affection like this unless Mac gave him an opening. It was never spontaneous. Mac knew that just as much as Dennis did. Dennis’ lungs constricted until Mac’s whole face softened and he squeezed Dennis’ hand once, gently enough to untangle all the knots in Dennis’ stomach. 

After that, Dennis let things snowball. When he thought he just wanted to keep Mac’s attention for the sake of it, thought Mac had just become somewhat attractive to him, it was easy to keep it buried somewhere in his chest. Being in love was uncharted territory. Dennis never made a script for that because he never thought he would need one, so. He was floundering.

After breakfast the next morning, they watched a movie. Mac didn’t need to go to the gym that day, and they weren’t needed at Paddy’s for a few hours, so they put on a rom-com that they’d never tell the others they liked. While Mark did the whole boombox confession thing with Juliet, Dennis made a decision. He waited until the credits rolled to say anything, but judging by the way Mac wordlessly scooted closer, he’d gotten visibly tense as soon as the thought crossed his mind. 

He muted the credits as soon as they started to roll. The music would distract both of them. “Mac,” he said slowly. Mac’s attention was on him immediately. “I am going to tell you something, and if you make it weird or tell the others, I will feed you to the rats, alright?”  
  
Mac nodded. He trusted Dennis. Dennis tried to speak around the rapidly forming lump in his throat. 

He breathed. “This isn’t, like, something new for me. I’ve known since college, so it’s not some self realization bullshit. I’m bisexual. I don’t bring guys here because you used to hate gay sex or whatever, and now--” He shrugged. “I don’t talk about it with the others because they’d be way too goddamn annoying about it.”

Mac was quiet for a few seconds. Dennis saw so many emotions slash across Mac’s face that he couldn’t tell what any of them were. Eventually, Mac smiled. “Thank you for telling me, dude. I swear I won’t be annoying about it.”  
  
Dennis knew that was a lie, but he also knew that Mac wouldn’t give himself any hope of them happening until Dennis told him. Plus, he knew Mac wouldn’t tell the others and maybe he wanted to say the words to someone before he died. Instead of saying any of that, he shrugged, leaned into Mac’s side, and grabbed the remote to pick another movie. They didn’t have time to finish it without being late, but it wasn’t like they’d get fired.

The next night was a slow one at the bar. It was a weeknight, so they never had more than five or six people in the bar at a time. Dennis got drunk, like he always did on slow nights. Mac insisted on driving them home, even if Dennis could still walk perfectly fine on his own, which meant he could drive perfectly fine. 

Maybe Dennis played it up a little so Mac would put his arm around Dennis and help him into the car. Maybe. 

He was drunk enough to make words slip out more easily though. 

Easily enough that when they got back to the apartment, Dennis looked at Mac and said, “Sleep in my room tonight,” without his throat swelling shut. Mac’s eyes got round and he started to say something about Dennis being drunk. Dennis shook his head. “I sleep better when you’re in there. Just do it, dumbass.”

Even drunk, Dennis felt a cold settle in his stomach. That was too much. That was too vulnerable and way too honest. 

It did the trick though. Mac’s shoulders relaxed. “Okay, Dennis. Sure.”  
  
Dennis didn’t remember much of anything after laying down, but he woke up in the morning with all his limbs wrapped around Mac like an oversized koala bear and Mac’s arms wrapped around his torso. He got drunk enough to be hungover, but not enough to forget what he’d said to Mac the night before. He was fucking horrified at himself, at that absolutely pitiful plea for affection.

As he tried to untangle himself from Mac to go berate himself in the bathroom and figure out a way to explain away his pathetic behavior, Mac started to wake up. Of course. The idiot was the lightest sleeper on the goddamn planet. 

His arms tightened around Dennis and Dennis lost all ability to breathe. Not because Mac was squeezing too tight, but because Mac hadn’t let go the second he realized they were both awake. Because it was morning and both of them were awake and both of them knew the other was awake and there was no deniability and Mac was still holding Dennis like it was normal.

He stayed frozen as Mac groaned and woke himself up. “Want me to make coffee?” he asked, and Dennis could feel him craning his neck. 

Dennis sighed. The way he saw it, he had two options. He could say yes and pretend nothing happened, or he could cling tighter. “Sounds great.”

Mac nodded and untangled himself from Dennis without complaint. Dennis collected himself while Mac walked unsteadily out of his room and towards the kitchen. Once his heart rate slowed, he followed. 

He sat at the table and watched Mac make the coffee, letting himself stare. It was early and he was tired but not hollow and he’d slept completely through the night. Mac’s eyebrows knitted together when he was focused or thinking hard about something. They did it when he poured cream into Dennis’ coffee, like if he focused hard enough he could count the perfect number of drops. 

Dennis really tried not to let it remind him he was in love with Mac. It did though. He couldn’t tell himself it didn’t make his chest ache with something like softness, or at least the closest thing to softness that Dennis could manage. 

He didn’t pretend he wasn’t staring when Mac looked his direction. He just held out a hand to take the mug from Mac. He held Mac’s hand across the table again. He let Mac talk him into eating a cup of yogurt. Mac ate leftover pizza, which. Even if Dennis didn’t...pizza just couldn’t be a good thing to start the day off with. 

Mac watched Dennis eat, and within a minute of him finishing his yogurt, he started talking. “Look man, I know you’re probably gonna get pissed at me for bringing it up, but like. What the hell did you mean last night?”  
  
Dennis could play dumb. He could pretend he didn’t remember. He could stay on the cliff’s edge and never have to face the question of whether Mac would pull him to safety or if he would let go or slip or not even notice Dennis was falling until it was too late. 

He stared resolutely at the empty cup of yogurt in front of him. He stepped over the edge. “I meant exactly what I said, Mac. Wouldn’t have said it if it was bullshit.”

Mac’s grip on Dennis’ hand held firm. 

He looked at Dennis like Dennis had just said he believed in Jesus. Like he’d never wanted to hear something so much in his life. 

“Really?”  
  
Dennis bit back a scathing comment about how much he hated to repeat himself. He nodded. 

Mac beamed, and he let the subject drop. His hand, still squeezing Dennis’, felt warm and steady and real. This was all real. The edges of Dennis’ God hole felt like something he could almost reach. It wasn’t endless. It was a pitch black cavern that had sides and a bottom, and for the first time Dennis thought he could find those edges. 

His hand was shaking in Mac’s with the enormity of it. 

Mac’s expression went from elated to concerned in an impossibly short amount of time. “Are you okay, man? What’s wrong?”  
  
“Just. Put up your goddamn pizza, you shouldn’t be eating it for breakfast anyway. And go brush your teeth, you smell like garlic and morning breath.”

Concern to confusion. “Um, okay?” 

He pulled his hand back. Dennis used the last vestiges of his self restraint to stop himself from whining like a bratty child. He had a plan, and if it meant Mac had to stop touching him for a few minutes, so be it. 

Dennis went to the bathroom to deal with his own morning breath situation while Mac cleaned up the kitchen. If Dennis didn’t fuck this up, he couldn’t have shitty breath either. 

He waited in his bed for Mac to finish. The living room felt...too exposed. Sure it was in his and Mac’s apartment, but it wasn’t like Dee and Charlie and Frank never showed up unannounced. Plus, the largest part of Dennis was more than a little greedy, and if this didn’t go south, he wanted to be able to relive it whenever he wanted, and that was only possible in the room with a camera that was always rolling. 

He did his best not to get worked up while he waited. If he was too freaked out, Mac would get way too worried and it wouldn’t work. He balled his hands up in his sheets so the shaking was less noticeable. Mac still looked confused when he came out of the bathroom, but he sat down next to Dennis anyways. 

“Okay seriously, what’s up Dennis?”  
  
Dennis shook his head. “Shut up and just--just give me a minute, alright?”  
  
Mac raised his eyebrows, but he stayed quiet. 

“Okay, so I. I’ve been--goddammit.” His breathing was shaky enough to make talking harder than it had any right to be. Mac reached out a hand and gently grabbed Dennis’ wrist, stroking his thumb over the back of Dennis’ hand. Steadying him. Dennis forced himself to continue. “We’ve been doing this for so long, man. I--I don’t think there’s gonna be anyone else. You’re it for me.”

It was the most terrifying thing Dennis had ever said out loud, and Dennis had to keep going because it still wasn’t enough. “Like, I always thought I’d marry some chick with rich parents or something. I haven’t thought about that in...it’s been a while. The only thing that makes sense is staying with you, man. This is all I want now.”  
  
Mac’s hand had long since stopped moving. “Dennis, don’t fuck with me. If this is some kind of joke or something I’m gonna be seriously pissed off.”  
  
That one stung, but. He couldn’t really blame Mac.

So he did the only thing that made sense. He lifted his hand, the one that Mac wasn’t still holding, and he let himself _finally_ reach out and touch. He rested his hand on Mac’s cheek and didn’t let himself think too hard about the shell-shocked look on Mac’s face as he leaned in. 

When his lips pressed to Mac’s, he thought his heart stopped beating. When Mac got his bearings and started kissing back, it started up again so loud he could feel it pulsing all the way in his fingertips. Mac kissed Dennis like he thought he’d never get to do it again. He wrapped an arm around Dennis’ waist tight, and tangled his fingers in Dennis’ hair with the other hand, holding Dennis as close as he could. He kissed with desperation and warmth and _love,_ and Dennis felt like he was drowning in it. 

He didn’t know it was possible to feel so completely consumed by just a kiss. He felt like he could die right then and not have any regrets besides not having done this with Mac sooner. 

Mac was the one to pull away first. He wrapped Dennis up in both arms and buried his face in the crook of Dennis’ neck. 

Dennis let out a shaky exhale. “See? No joking here, Mac.”

Mac breathed in deeply and pressed one short kiss against the spot where Dennis’ neck met his shoulder before he looked at him again. The doe-eyed, enraptured expression on Mac’s face was something Dennis would remember to the grave. 

“Jesus, Dennis.” He looked at Dennis’ face like he was seeing it for the first time. He looked almost _worshipful_ , and Dennis was still wearing the makeup he’d fallen asleep in the night before. “This isn’t a dream, right?”  
  
With uneven, smudged, day-old makeup and unstyled hair, Dennis was still someone Mac dreamed about. It was such a gut punch that Dennis couldn’t even laugh at how stupid the question was. 

Instead, he just kissed Mac again. 

**Author's Note:**

> i have some things i need to say but FIRST im plugging my tumblr its dykedennis please follow me to see me have meltdowns over it's always sunny
> 
> okay NOW onto serious shit: i want to make it completely clear im not writing this saying that getting into a relationship with mac would ACTUALLLY solve dennis' issues because it absolutely wouldnt. i am writing this from dennis' pov though, and he is a very unreliable narrator! so leaving this fic at their first kiss leaves it at a high note when dennis is going to be in a mindset of "im actually in love and he actually wants to be with me and everythings getting better now."  
> tl;dr im not writing this to say macden dating would solve dennis' problems, but dennis is an unreliable narrator and so in this moment he does believe that everythings getting better because hes found someone who he loves that loves him back
> 
> thank you to anyone who read both parts of this or even just one part!! hope you enjoyed these 2 bastards being in love


End file.
